


Under My Skin

by kimoi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimoi/pseuds/kimoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is a sequel to inanimate!</p><p>Roxy's give-a-fuck-erator breaks down, and she is unable to cope with the overwhelming emptiness that the forced break-up has left her with. But is AR worth giving up even basic human functionality? Did Roxy do this to herself on purpose...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ten days. It’d been ten days since Roxy had experienced the most devastating pain she’d ever felt in her entire life. A deep void had been created in her soul, right in the middle of her chest. Right where her heart used to be. She was barely aware of the irony of the situation.

She’d debated for a good long time on whether or not she should try to talk to Dirk again. She looked back at the incoherent babbling she’d left their last conversation on, and realized she hadn’t exactly made a compelling argument. Now, though, she knew her attempts wouldn’t be much better.

Her mother was still at her conference, and whether she was actually doing author-stuff or chasing tail like the cougar she was Roxy had no business thinking of. It gave her time to think about what had happened. Which, admittedly, probably wasn’t in her best interests - but she was way, way too hammered to care. Again, irony.

The bolt cutters had been a good investment and she thanked her foresight for buying them when she had; the blonde never would have been able to get the padlock off the liquor cabinet if she hadn’t bought the tool. She probably would have likely admitted to them being for some project of hers she planned way down the line, but in actuality they’d served their intended purpose. Four bottles of top-shelf gin later, she found herself alternating between crying about AR and giggling at ‘colt butters’.

Phone was ringing. No, shit - not the house phone, /her/ phone - and she stumbled into her room once again to answer it. Laid on her bed.

“Heeeeeeeellooooo?” she slurred into it, rubbing her hand roughly through her very dirty and very messy hair. A relieved ‘hoo!’ was heard on the other end.  
“Roxy! We’ve been quite worried about you! Are you alright?” The blonde scrunched her nose up.  
“Janey what’re you even talkin’ about?” Goddamn, her head was in a place. It swirled and it splashed, and the ten-second long blinks she took she found herself wondering if it was because it was trying to sink or swim. She was rolling back and forth on her bed as Jane went on and on and on about... something.  
“You, young lady! You haven’t been online in three days, everyone’s wondering what happened to you!”  
“Who’s erryone?” It couldn’t have been everyone. There was one person conspicuously absent from their little group. “S’not erryone, Janey.” She stopped rolling, laying flat on her stomach with her face smashed into the bedcovers. “He’s dead.”  
“...who’s dead, RoLal?” Jane’s ignorance instantly infuriated her.  
“Don’t y’fuckin’ know anythin’?!” Roxy barked, suddenly sitting up on her bed so fast it actually sent her flat on her back. “He’s fuckin’ DEAD and it’s all Dirk ‘English-fuckin’’ Strider’s goddamn fault!” Fuck, her angry tears were back - just as she’d thought she’d downed enough furniture polish (read: gin) to keep them at bay.  
“Roxy Lalonde!” Miss Crocker’s temper had apparently flared also. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think you ought to apologize for taking such sass with me!” Not the right thing to say.  
“Fuck you, Janey. You’d nnnnnnever unnerstand.” She ended the call, and flung the phone across her room. An anguished scream left her, and she hauled off her bed - stumbling as her head dizzied - and miraculously found her way back into the kitchen with minimal injury. She opened the door to the fridge, hanging on it heavily as she stated, bleary-eyed, into the appliance. She had no idea what time it was. She didn’t know if she was hungry or not. She definitely knew she wasn’t drunk enough, and her tears were a good testament to that. A weak sob left her; her shoulders sagging as she closed the fridge and dragged herself into the dining room.

The liquor cabinet was open and friendly, smiling at her from the other side of the room. She fell to her knees and crawled to it, pulling out an armful of bottles and hugging them to herself. Some of them were empty, some were half-full. A few of them weren’t even opened yet; their lids marking them as probably very expensive. Using the cabinet door as leverage, she kept her hand around the neck of one of the fuller ones to stand. The old-fashioned turntable they kept in the room caught her eye, and she ambled over to it. Cranked the handle. Sloppily moved the needle to what she thought was the center of the record -

 _“...warnin’ voice, that comes in the night, and repeats - repeats in my ear..”_  
“Oh f-fuck,” she whimpered. She had no idea this was the album that was on the thing. Before she knew what was happening, she was chugging from the bottle and shout-singing along.  
“Don’ y’know l’il foooooooooooooooooool you never can winnnnnnnnnnnnn.... use your mentalityyyyy WAKE UP TO REALITYYYYY - but eash time that I do, jus th’thought of you makes me stop b’fore I beginnnnn...” She swung into the living room, sitting herself down on the couch and managing to spill half the bottle on herself. She kept singing. “Cos I’ve got youuuuuuu under my skinnnnnnnnnn.”

Evidently, she hadn’t wound the crank enough because the song died shortly into the next verse; but by then Roxy had already turned on her Xbox and was very tediously making her way to Netflix and logging herself in((after spelling her email wrong at least five times - it was a fucking Christmas miracle she got her password even remotely right)).

Fucking damn, she missed AR. It wasn’t even because they were an item. It was because he was a goddamn prince to her and no one had given her the time of day the way he had before. Treated her like an equal where others just fucking chided her and thought less of her for it. It would fucking figure the moment she had something good going on in her life someone like Dirk ‘I’m so fucking perfect, let me just take this thing you love away from you’ Strider would decide suddenly that he wanted to be a decent goddamn human being in the absolute worst way. It didn’t even matter anymore that she had one less hurdle between herself and him, because it was a hurdle that she was absolutely enamored with and never, ever minded facing. Fuck.

“I’m fuckin’ saaaaaad, Xbox,” she whined at the machine, taking another drink from the bottle. She was aware now that her shirt was wet and reeked, so she put the bottle ((vodka!)) down long enough to peel it off herself and throw it onto the floor. Her bra matched her jammie pants. That was a happy accident. “I don wanna be saaaaaaad. Play me somethin’ niiiiiiiiiiiice.” She closed her eyes and scrolled a few times, this way and that, before hitting the A button.

She’d never seen ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’ before, but Jim Carrey could do no wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Roxy sat through the entire movie, watching it as she semi-sobered up. It gave her a lot to think about, and by the end she was sitting back and thinking about everything she’d taken in. That... seemed like a good idea, actually. Forgetting everything she ever knew about any Strider under the goddamn fucking sun. She didn’t have some magical therapist or dreamy-erasing machine, but enough alcohol and a good mantra to soothe her weary head would probably help an awful lot. It was with this sudden determination that she stood, snagged another bottle from the liquor cabinet, and stomped upstairs.

Not entirely sure as to how she was going to approach this, she decided to face the monster and sat down at her computer desk. Taking a deep breath, she turned it on.

It felt like it’d been weeks since she’d looked at it; the colours seemed wrong and the settings seemed entirely different. Frowning, she opened her Nyx browser to find something that might aid in her brain-washing. Oh, no. That was a bad idea. It restored her recent tabs and brought up what she’d been looking at last - which was the picture AR had made for her of him kissing her cheek.

“F-fuck,” she whispered, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her forehead atop them as she felt her shoulders shake with another round of sobbing to herself. It was messy. She felt gross and probably very much looked it. Her stomach rumbled uneasily with the onset of another fit of depression, and she feared for a moment that she’d have to flee to the bathroom to throw up. Again. She’d prayed to the porcelain god, as people said, more times than she could count in the past few days. She thought she was getting better at holding her liquor though, but there were glimpses of the days where she couldn’t even remember how that lamp had broken, or where her phone charger had gone, or why there was a hole in her wall now. She wouldn’t admit it, but she’d blacked out more than once.

It was too quiet. She’d gotten so used to hearing his voice, so used to him watching over her. So used to having someone just... be someone. Roxy Lalonde was desperately lonely - even before he had a face or even a voice, AR had been something to her that she needed. Just the comfort of his existence had been enough for her. It was true; people really didn’t fully appreciate the things they had until they were gone. Except she had - she’d worked so hard to give him everything he deserved, worked so hard to make him into what they both knew he was. And then he was just gone. The thought of him vanishing entirely without a single trace, just a 'right click delete' and nothing, made her cry harder.

After ten minutes, she’d finally exhausted herself to the point where she could look at her computer screen without feeling as if she were going to die or throw up, or both. Her eyes hurt, and looking at the picture of AR, Dirk, whoever it was - kissing her cheek... It was a double-edged sword. Her hand lifted shakily, fingertips touching the warm, salty tears on her cheek - the cheek AR was kissing in the picture. She had to do this. It was absolutely for her own good, as much as it was going to hurt.

“But it won’t,” she mumbled to herself, smiling bitterly. “I won’t even fucking remember who you are.” She closed the tab, but not before archiving the email just.. just in case. Eternal Sunshine Wiki page open, she gave it a quick glance-over before standing and moving around her room, picking up absolutely everything that reminded her of AR or Dirk, and putting it into a big luggage bag. This dumb My Little Pony figurine. That orange phone case. The shirt she described to AR that her flirtlarping character wore. A large number of things, most of them innocuous, went into the bag. Lots of orange things, lots of things that were exceptionally weeby or otherwise just... bad news bears. She finally stopped at her bedside table, red eyes falling to the cardboard cutout of Dirk’s shades. Holding it in her hands, she sighed heavily; planting a firm kiss onto the surface.

“I’m sorry.”

Into the bag it went.


	3. Chapter 3

Hours had passed, and she had cleared the house of anything and everything she could find that reminded her of the Striders. Dirk had sent her a mug, once, as a joke - ‘World’s best Mom’ it read, with a pink heart on it. Her feelings were entirely a mess for a brief moment, Roxy unsure if she wanted to recall the humor fondly, with scorn, or just be more depressed about AR. She figured her therapy was off to a good start when she realized she felt nothing.

Books, more clothes, certain knick-knacks, keychains... even a wireless computer mouse that, for one reason or another, had always made her think of the eccentric kid. In the bag. A baseball cap she’d won in some stupid online contest. In the bag.

She decided against actually throwing _away_ the stuff, and instead settled on dropping it carefully through one of her fenestrated planes. It landed somewhere safely in the lab, and would be easily retrieved if she ever, ever felt like she needed it again. She desperately hoped she wouldn’t.

Back at her computer she decided to put the movie on in the background while she read the wiki, alternating between taking swigs from her bottle and repeating certain things to herself, like ‘I don’t need them’, ‘I’m better off without’, and ‘Strider who?’. Every so often her veil would fall and she’d be caught in a trap of tears and depression again, and would play a song or two to get ‘one’ last round of feeling sorry for herself out of the way. It got so bad at one point that she actually worked herself into a state of dry heaving, which quickly turned to regular heaving, and she had to run off to the bathroom. It was horrid; it came out her nose and it made her throat sore and burn, got in her hair and made her eyes prickle at the corners with the intensity of the action. When she was done she didn’t even feel like pulling her head off the seat. This, among everything else, had to be her ultimate low. Not staying in bed for 23 straight hours, not propositioning the Geek Squad worker after she drunk-dialed one thinking they could help get AR back, and not even when she spent an hour shout-singing ‘Pikachu’s Goodbye’ to the empty house. No, definitely, literally wallowing in a pool of her own filth was the lowest she’d ever been. Five minutes passed. Seven. Twelve. Twenty-five minutes later the smell finally breached something in her alcohol-infused brain, and she shakily pulled herself back into a kneel over the toilet bowl. She groaned as she reached to flush it, sighing heavily and grimacing as her utterly disgusting breath was reflected back at her. Her teeth needed to be brushed.

Hunching over the sink took special care, her head spinning in a way she wasn’t used to. It was an angry rattle, and her jittery heartbeat threatened to break her eardrums. Distantly, she was afraid she’d actually gotten alcohol poisoning but ultimately decided against getting help. She’d get what was coming to her, at least.

When her mouth didn’t smell like the alley behind a catfood factory (that is to say, like really overwhelmingly acrid garbage) she found her way back to her room, using the wall for heavy support.

“Round two,” she whispered hoarsely, and her voice hit her ears like a freight train; causing a soft whimper and a moment of resting her forehead against the surface of her desk. Slowly, in her quiet time, her sadness melted unfairly into anger. This shouldn’t have been happening like this. There was no reason for her life to be falling apart like it was just because of... something that happened. Girls broke up with guys all the time. _Not like this._ Being hurt is normal, but it’s getting out of hand. _He was taken from me._ It hurts so bad. _It’s all Dirk’s fault._

She sat up again, slowly, and took a deep breath. Now, for the hard part. She opened pesterchum and blocked Dirk. Then archived all her pesterlogs. Took another deep breath. Time to get down to actual business, now that she was done feeling sorry for herself.

“Who’s Dirk Strider?” It was such a bizarre statement to ask herself, and it sounded so wrong coming out of her mouth. She repeated it, and it made her shudder. She was going to do this. “I don’t care anymore. Who’s Dirk Strider? _I don’t care.”_ Roxy put her head back down, and while mumbling these phrases to herself, recalled all the conversations she could that she’d had with him, and did her best to recall them as a third party that had never known him, and wasn’t going to. It was difficult at first, but as she mentally flipped through each pesterlog she could remember, it got easier and easier.


	4. Chapter 4

She’d fallen asleep like that, her head on her desk and her computer on and humming. Both Jake and Jane had attempted to talk to her, but she’d obviously been way too absorbed in what she was doing to hear it. The mantra had helped a little, she decided, when she could think about Dirk and AR and not either be instantly enraged or sobbing grossly. She felt sort-of... okay. Acceptant. Numbed. Her heart hurt but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t deal with, and she rubbed her eyes with a quiet groan before she stood, heading into the bathroom. She felt decent enough with her situation to at least shower. A good sign.

She peeled off what remained of her clothing, grimacing as she noticed a few spots that had unfortunately been in the way the past few times she puked. She threw them in the hallway. The shower came to life and she waited until the room was filled with steam before she stepped in, noticing an open and half-full bottle of gin waiting for her. Shrugging to herself she picked it up, and even with the teasing fingers of a lingering inebriation from the night before digging into her skull, she drank it, showered, and sang to herself loudly as she washed up.

She washed the puke and other filth out of her hair, scrubbed her face with her facewash until she felt the layer of grease and dirt and probably drool melt off, and let the steam soak into her body. It felt nice to shower after so long, even if it was sort-of a chore drying herself off and finding clothes to wear. She didn’t plan on going anywhere - like usual - so she just threw a pullover hoodie and some pj pants on, and climbed into bed. Flipped on her tv and put on some - no, she couldn’t watch the Spanish soap opera channel yet. A pang hit her straight in the chest and she shuddered, flipping the station.

“I don’t care,” she heard herself mumble as she flipped channels. “Who’s Dirk Strider? I don’t care.”

She settled on a dopey documentary about meerkats and got herself situated, pulling the bottle of booze from the side table and taking a long drink. She hugged it to her, trying to focus on the tv. It was really, really hard. Despite her mantra repeated over and over, it still managed to upset her. Watching the meerkats scamper around didn’t make anything awful resurface, but the thoughts, while benign, were enough to bring her to tears again.

“It isn’t fair,” she whispered to herself, pulling her knees up around the bottle and hugging it tighter. “It’s just not fucking fair.”

This went on for a few hours, the blonde alternating between crying, saying her phrases over and over to herself, and trying to concentrate on her dumb documentaries. Eventually she got herself out of bed and down to the kitchen, fetching a glass of water. She bumped into her mother. A quiet ‘oh’ left her, Roxy not even noticing she was home.

“Hi mom,” she croaked weakly. Eternally grateful she didn’t reek of booze anymore, she sipped her water carefully, avoiding the older woman’s eyes. She looked exhausted. “How was your trip?”

“Tiresome and obnoxious,” her mother answered, pulling a chilled bottle of sparkling apple juice out of the fridge. “If I never see another sweaty, pizza-faced nerd again it’ll be too soon.” She visibly shuddered, and turned to face her daughter. “How have you been, darling?”  
Roxy shook her head a little, still avoiding eye contact. She was also curious as to why her mother was asking - and why her trip took so long.

“Uh... fine.” She swallowed nervously. She wasn’t even going to bother telling her mother about her... exciting time while she was gone. “Had some wild parties. Streaked across the neighborhood. You know, the usual.” She could almost hear her mother roll her eyes.

“Roxy Lalonde, do not toy with me like that.” The smile was in her words though, and she removed a glass from the cupboard. “I hope I left you enough to feed yourself adequately.” Roxy tensed, half expecting another joke at the expense of her weight. When none came, she relaxed.

“Yeah. I was fine.” Pause. “Thanks mom.” Even in passing((and ignoring the tremendous amount of unease she felt as a whole)) the gratitude was sincere, and she was satisfied with the exchange. So satisfied, in fact, she left the kitchen without any parting words.

Back in her room she finished her water and sat at her computer again, elbow resting on her desk as her forehead was cradled in her palm. Fingertips angrily rubbed at her hairline, Roxy tabbing back and forth between the wiki entry for meerkats and some really poorly-written ~ATH tutorials. The water had made her feel a little better, but she still felt really heavy and dead inside.

“Who’s Dirk Strider? I don’t care.”


	5. Chapter 5

Her ‘treatment’ went on like this, the mantra following her wherever she went. It followed her through the house, to the bathroom and the kitchen, and between her room and the liquor cabinet. Days passed, and as they went along she found it easier and easier to do normal activities without being terribly inconvenienced by her immense feelings. She could look at her laptop again without her eyes brimming with tears. She could wear sunglasses and not break down in the middle of walking to and from the mailbox. She even watched an episode of the same Spanish soap opera she watched with AR. By the end of the week, she barely remembered what had made her so upset to begin with.

“Yeah, Janey, I feel great.” Two martinis into the day and she was browsing the internet, checking up on some forums she’d missed out on in the past few days. “I don’t even know what I was so pissed off about.”  
“You kept shouting about how ‘he’s dead, he’s dead’ - and-”  
“I don’t need a recap, Jane,” she interrupted in a quiet, stern voice. “I was being a bitch, let’s leave it at that.” She may have been on the swift road to recovery, but she didn’t want to dwell on shit.  
“Right, right! So.. er.. what’re you doing now?”  
“Chillin’ on the internet n’ slammin’ this martini.” Pause, tak tak tak. “You should try one sometime. Might loosen you up a bit.”  
“Lalonde!” But Jane was giggling. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re doing better. I’ve gotta make a batch of cupcakes so I’ll let you go!” Roxy heard shuffling. “I’m gonna check up on you, okay?”  
“Fiiiiine. Fine. Kisses, Janey. I’ll talk to you later.” And she hung up.

Hours dragged on, and she soon got bored of the computer and her constant martinis, opting to get off the internet and go climb into bed. It was only 8 pm, but she was pretty fuckin’ tired. Her mantra followed into her sleep, and she didn’t dream.

She didn’t get out of bed until nearly 4pm the following day, having woken up at 1 and spending the entirety of her day being a lazy asshole. She only got up when she had to take a leak.

Business finished, she wandered downstairs to find her mother in the kitchen.

“There you are. I was worried you were dead up there.”  
“Just catching up on my beauty sleep, mom.” Roxy opened the fridge. To her surprise, it was mostly empty.  
“I need to go shopping, but you can make yourself some soup or something.” The blonde groaned. That sounded like work, and she definitely didn’t feel like doing anything productive.  
“I’ll just go hungry.” It was more of a joke than anything else, but the idea of doing absolutely nothing was intensely appealing.  
“Don’t be that way. Go sit in the dining room, -I’ll- make you some soup.” Her mother sounded annoyed, but she didn’t have to cook her own meal. Little victories.

Slumped at the table, she fiddled around with the charms on her phone. Frowned at them for the briefest of moments - for a second, she didn’t remember who the little green skull charm was from, which was bizarre since it was one of the first things Jake had ever sent to her. Well, whatever. She remembered and that was that. A span of a few minutes occurred when she clearly wasn’t paying attention to much of anything - because her mother was bringing a bowl of soup to her, and she hadn’t even noticed how long it had been. Why was it so hard feeding herself? Why did lifting the spoon to her mouth seem like such a chore? She powered through it, and finished the bowl in about half an hour.

Now, the next task was _getting up_. Which sounded equally as lame as the chore of sitting down had been. She stared at the bowl in front of her, willing with everything she had that it would just reach out and pull her onto her feet, put itself into the sink, and then somehow carry her upstairs. With a huff she did that all herself, climbed back into bed with her laptop, and turned Netflix on on her TV.

 

\-- golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] --

GT: Miss lalonde!  
TG: jakey  
TG: hi  
GT: Hey! Its good to finally get ahold of you! Weve been a little worried.

Roxy felt herself prickle just a little at the mention of ‘weve’, not wanting Jake to bring up the thing she’d been recovering so well from.

TG: no need to workry about me  
TG: i talked to jane ealier  
TG: she can give u hte deets

She wasn’t even drunk anymore, much to her dismay. Finding the energy to actually type was a real problem in and of itself.

TG: but i gotta go kajeky  
TG: #whytegrlprobz  
TG: whoops not a mememo but ya  
TG: ttyl

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] has ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] --

 

She felt bad for just leaving him hanging like that, but when she actually felt her heartrate pick up at the thought of some taboo topic coming up, she knew it was for the best. She shut off her laptop, closed it, and rolled over to face the TV. She’d put on another documentary about happiness. Documentaries were easy to get along with. She could mantra to herself and be occupied with something that wasn’t the intense loneliness the phrases jumbled around in her head. This one though, was a little harder to swallow.

Happiness. She frowned. That was something that she honestly felt like she hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. When was the last time she smiled? The last time she laughed? The last time she’d taken a drink from a bottle in celebration, and not in pain? When she’d actually showered because she felt like it was for a date, and not because she could see her own stink lines?

She rolled over the other way, her voice cracking as she tried reciting her lines to herself. Nope. It wasn’t working. The second the sound of Dirk’s name left her mouth she was crying again, and it was with thoughts she’d tried so desperately to forget that she fell into a painful, lonely sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's really super short because i'm setting up for all the big stuff happening uwu i'm sorry!!

Roxy Lalonde slept for two days. More like, she laid in bed for 48 hours, 46 of which were spent sleeping. The remaining two were spent mostly taking bathroom breaks to pee or throw up. Sometimes both. When she finally slothed out of bed at the peak of the 49th hour, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

Nothing, she realized. She didn’t want to do anything. She sat at the edge of her bed, a blank look on her face until her internal clock told her she’d spent 50 hours inactive, and she stood. A slow and autonomous force made her pick up her laptop, turn it on, and type up a word document. She saved it to the desktop, and shut down her computer again. She didn’t even know what she wrote.

“Roxy?”

The blonde didn’t answer.

“Roxy, honey, are you okay?”

She was, and she wasn’t. An empty smile came to her otherwise blank features and she ghosted from her room, downstairs to sit at the dining room table.

“There you are,” her mother breathed, hanging up the phone.  
“I’m fine mom,” Roxy whispered, her hands set on the table palms-down. “What’s for breakfast?” An incredulous stare was the response to her question until her mom spoke up.  
“Roxy, it’s 7 o’clock at night.” There was a moment of mutual silence.  
“Oh.” More silence. “What’s for dinner?” Instead of responding, Mom Lalonde rolled her eyes and went back into the kitchen.  
“Fend for yourself, child.” And the woman was gone. Roxy grumbled in irritation before she stood, shuffling into the kitchen to open the fridge, and stare inside as she leaned heavily against the door. Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. She certainly didn’t feel like making anything for herself. Even when her stomach growled in protest she only shut the door. Maybe there’d be some chips or something in the cabinet. This search yielded no results, and she let out a frustrated sound.

“Why the fuck can’t food just fly into my mouth. That’d be so fucking great right now.” She slammed the cabinet shut, and trudged back upstairs. Flopped onto her bed. And for ten minutes stared at nothing, the sound of her stomach growling filling the otherwise silent room. Her phone was ringing, too. Finding the energy to grab it, even a few inches away, was a sheer test of will.

“Hello?” Her phone rest against her face. A shrill voice greeted her.  
“Roxy Lalonde!” Jane barely stopped to breathe. “You have GOT to stop doing this, gosh-darnit! Everyone’s worried sick about you, you don’t get online, you barely answer your phone - What’s going on?!” Roxy groaned.  
“I dunno Janey. I haven’t been feeling really well.”  
“Well you sound...” Her voice dropped. “Sober. So maybe you’re suffering from withdrawal or something!” She sighed. “Which is a blessing, if you ask me.”  
“I didn’t.” Jane seemed taken aback, and she stuttered quite a few times on her next words.  
“R-Roxy! I d-don’t... Do you even know what you’re saying anymore?”  
“Not a lot, J. I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”  
“Is everything okay, RoLal?” Concern overshadowed hurt offense. It wasn’t. Roxy slid the phone off her ear and hung up, closing her eyes again.

Her stomach growled. Maybe this time, she actually WOULD starve to death. That sounded a lot better than doing anything else right now.


	7. Chapter 7

Days passed. The gnawing nausea of hunger came and went, but Roxy couldn’t find any will to do something about it. At one point, she thought she heard her mother stand outside her room and talk about her. Probably on the phone. Probably about how uncooperative she was being. She just didn’t want to do anything.

\----------

\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] began pestering golgothasTerror [GT] --  
GT: Hello miss crocker!  
GG: Hey Jake...  
GT: Whats wrong, my smashing lady-friend? You seem a little down!  
GG: I’m worried about Roxy!  
GT: She did seem a little off the other day when i talked with her... whats your assessment on the situation?  
GG: You talked with her? When?  
GT: Oh... hm, it must have been a week ago, or so, id wager!  
GG: A week??  
GT: She hasnt been online since, i dont think. Has she talked to dirk at all?  
GG: I don’t think so... I think she’s avoiding him.  
GT: Avoiding him? *Tugs at collar a bit.* Why do you think shes doing that?  
GG: I’m not entirely sure. Getting her to talk about anything lately seems like such a darn chore!  
GT: Do you think we should do something? I hate seeing a lady in distress. Either of my ladies!  
GG: I’m not sure what TO do. I might take a visit over there, but I don’t know...  
GT: Well, youre her best pal! Im sure if anyone can get something out of her, its you!  
GG: Actually, Jake...  
GT: Yesm?  
GG: I talked with her on the phone a while ago, and she kept saying something about ‘he’s dead’. Do you have any idea what she could be talking about?  
GT: Hes dead? Whos dead?  
GG: That’s what I’m trying to figure out. It has to have something to do with Dirk.  
GT: Detective jane, on the case?  
GG: I hope so. I hate seeing her like this.  
GT: Maybe you should talk to the old boy himself? See if he knows anything.  
GG: Oh, I really don’t want to worry anyone else! I’ll see if I can get her to talk to me, even if just a little.  
GG: If that fails... then I might talk to Mister Strider.  
GT: Whatever you thinks best, jane! I know youll crack this case!  
GG: Thanks, J! I’ll let you know if I figure anything out.  
\-- gutsyGushoe [GG] has ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] --

Jane pulled out her phone again, bringing up the call log. Twelve unanswered calls to Roxy stared back at her. She sighed, trying once more. It ran six times before it was finally answered. She nearly jumped in surprise.

“Roxy! Roxy please talk to me, tell me what’s going on.” Her desperation was met with silence. “Roxy?” ...did Jane hear crying? “....RoLal?”  
“Jane,” she heard a few long seconds later.  
“Roxy what’s wrong? Please tell me something, anything-”  
“I can’t...”  
“You can tell me anything!” She gripped the phone, her hands shaking. “Please, Roxy...”  
“Move... I can’t... h-help me.”  
“You... can’t move?” What was wrong? “Are you hurt? Did you tell your mom?”  
“No...”

And she hung up. Worried, she tried to call her back, but a text popped up before she had the chance.

**Roxy** :  
txt s easer srta

She replied.

**Jane** :  
What’s wrong, Roxy? I’m really worried about you!  
 **Roxy** :  
i thnk im gvng up on lfe

Her eyes widened in alarm.

**Roxy** :  
nt on prpose it was n acident  
 **Jane** :  
What do you mean???  
 **Roxy** :  
i cant do antyhgn evn typing this s a chroe  
 **Jane** :  
Roxy, what happened???  
 **Roxy** :  
nvm janey

Jane stopped, looking taken aback. Nevermind? Nevermind??? She began typing furiously.

**Jane** :  
No! Tell me what the frick is going on here!

Minutes passed.

**Jane** :  
Roxy?

Ten minutes passed with no reply. She was starting to get upset and desperate, so she stood to throw some things in her bag, and march out her door. Down the stairs. Out the fr -

“Just where do you think you’re going, young lady?”


	8. Chapter 8

“Dad!” Jane’s surprise and frustration was immediately evident. “I can’t stay - move!” Her eyes were wide, watching her father with a look of sheer panic.  
“I don’t appreciate your tone, Jane.”  
“Daaaad!” She was going to burst into tears.  
“Where’re you headed in such a hurry? I thought you had a tray of cookies in the oven.” Jane glanced behind her father towards the kitchen; the timer on the stove alerting her that she had 12 minutes to wait before she needed to take them out. Her dad raised an eyebrow at her, the unspoken ‘well?’ clear on his face.  
“You take ‘em, dad, I’ve got somewhere really important to be. Roxy needs my help.” The man dropped his stance, and his shoulders sagged just slightly in a silent sigh.  
“Is she alright?”  
“I don’t think so, dad.” The man frowned, and nodded.  
“Alright. But be careful.” He motioned towards the door. “Take care of your friend.”

A grateful smile was her thanks, and she took off.

The cab dropped her off at the Lalonde residence and the driver accepted her hasty payment with a concerned look, and waved her away. She tore up the steps and didn’t bother knocking - thankfully the door was open.

“Miss Lalonde? Roxy?” She raced through the lower-level rooms, pausing as a note on the counter caught her eye. It was simple, and in a mother’s curly, elegant handwriting. ‘Please get up, Roxy.’ This sent a chill down Jane’s spine, and she ran to the stairs.  
“Roxy?” she called again worriedly. No response. Racing down the hallway she checked every door until she found the blonde’s room. It was entirely dark, and a figure was faintly visible on the bed. Her backpack slipped off her shoulders and she approached with a small wave of sudden nervousness. She had no idea what to expect when she laid a hand on Roxy’s shoulder, but relief washed over her when she was greeted with a noise. Even though it was a whimper.  
“Jane...”  
“Roxy! Tell me what’s going on right now or I’ll-”  
“Help me... I can’t...”  
“Can’t what?” Her mind raced with the number of things she could use to finish that sentence.  
“M-move, I can’t...” Jane paused for a minute, dashing to turn on the light. She turned back and gasped softly. Roxy’s profile was startling. She looked almost frail and it scared the hell out of her.  
“H-here, I can-” Gently turning the blonde over, Jane helped her to sit up against the pillows leaning on her headboard. Roxy’s face looked awful. Not quite gaunt but it was getting there, and she clearly hadn’t changed her clothes in a while. “What happened, Roxy?” Jane whispered, trying to patiently rearrange the girl’s hair; a futile effort to make her look half as scary as she did right now.  
“Take me... to the bathroom? Please?” Roxy had rolled her head to look up at her and it nearly turned the brunette’s stomach with how pathetic the whole thing was. She nodded though, and carefully pulled Roxy off the bed, offering ample support that the Lalonde clearly needed. Slow going led them to the bathroom, and Jane turned on the light, awkwardly shifting her weight.

“What... er... do you need to do?” The way things looked, it could have been anything from pee to shower to throw up or all three. Weakly, Roxy lifted her hand to gesture at the garbage can next to the sink. When Jane carefully let her down next to it the blonde immediately grabbed it, wretching into it. Jane immediately averted her gaze, covering her mouth and trying not to puke herself. It was awful.  
“There’s... nothing in there I... don’t know wh-why I’m...”  
“J-just do your business, there’s no need to narrate it!” Immediately, she heard Roxy start to cry.  
“I’m so sorry Janey...” There was a pause for more wretching. “S-so sorry...”  
“Oh Roxy, please don’t be sorry I just - I want to know what happened. What’s wrong.”

A silence followed and Jane collected her friend, carefully washing her face before toting her back to her room. Sat her up in bed again and stood next to her, arms crossed and foot tapping nervously. What could she do to help? How could she figure this out? A small flash of insight clicked, and she went for her bag, pulling out her tiaratop and laptop. After carefully fixing it onto Roxy’s head, she sat down and turned on her computer. Started up Betty Bother, and remotely booted it on the headgear. Hastily made a new handle for Roxy to use from where she was, and opened a window.

\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering wizardKitty [WK] --

GG: All you have to do is think for me, Roxy. Just think and it’ll tell me whatever you need to.

Roxy didn’t reply at first, and it made her anxiety spike.

GG: Please talk to me Roxy, I’m so scared right now and I don’t know what else to do.  
WK: jane i made a really big mistake  
WK: i dont know how to fix this im so scared i havent moved in days  
GG: What did you do? How did this happen?  
WK: i dont even remember im honestly surprised i remember who you are im so sorry  
WK: no one deserves to worry about me  
WK: no one deserves this  
WK: im sorry  
WK: im sorry  
GG: Stop apologizing! Just tell me what’s going on!  
WK: go to my computer  
WK: check on there  
WK: youll see it

Jane stood, finding the laptop on the edge of the bed. She turned it on and waited impatiently for it to boot, some crazy nonsense popping up that she could only assume was some super secret hacker stuff. Eventually it brought her to the desktop, and sure enough a notepad document sat right in the middle of it.

She hesitated, but double-clicked ‘help.txt.’


	9. Chapter 9

WK: i dont even remember writing that  
WK: or why  
WK: i dont know what it says  
WK: i just remembered i touched my laptop and saved something recently  
WK: god i hope its fucking useful  
TG: Hush, I’m trying to read it!

As soon as Roxy’s concerned pesters subsided long enough for Jane to start, she did - and it only made her feel worse.

“jane -  
or, at least i’m guessing it’s janey and if it’s not GET OUT OF MY STUFF MOM no i don’t actually mean that i’m really in trouble i really need help. i’m not sure what’s happening to me but i think i’m slowly killing myself. doing anything is hard and i just don’t want to move anymore. i don’t know how i’m writing this, i’m p sure my brain is on autopilot right now and making me do this. there should be a folder on my desktop that explains most of this and what happened. it’s a lot of logfiles so i’m sorry for that but it’s really important.”

Jane took a break from reading the note; her heart racing as she located the folder in question. Opening it showed a smattering of documents; chatlogs between her and Dirk. She read through them one by one, quiet noises and gasps heard from her every so often as she found out what had happened. From what she’d gathered, Roxy and AR had become close, and eventually he’d asked her out. (Which was really, really sweet.) The chatlogs cut out for a while - because, as the letter continued to explain, he was speaking to her via recorded voice he’d gotten from Dirk - and she had worked for a good while on a program that would utilize screen captures of Dirk to actually allow him to video-chat with her as if he were an actual human. She felt a little jolt of guilt at that thought; after reading all these logfiles she’d obviously noticed Roxy referring to him as a person. Everyone kinda took him for granted, didn’t they? She shook her head with a sigh, and continued reading.

Eventually she got to the email, and by that point she was in quiet tears. Looking over to the blonde she stood, climbing onto her bed and hugging around Roxy tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Roxy,” she whispered, instantly feeling terrible for how she’d acted on the phone. She hadn’t known!! If Roxy had been able to tell her sooner, maybe Jane could have done something. She wouldn’t have been so heartless. She could have even maybe helped. Talked to Dirk. Made a difference. Done _anything_. Roxy wasn’t responding to her affection and attempts to apologize, so Jane let her go and stood again, nervously pacing and wringing her hands. What should she do? What could be done? She got back down to her laptop, opening the bother again.

GG: Roxy?  
WK: jane?  
GG: Yeah, it’s me.  
WK: ok good cos like  
WK: the other day i almost forgot who jake is  
WK: he didnt even do anything wrong  
WK: and i was like who the fuck gave me this GREEN SKULL PHONE CHARM  
WK: fucking mystery  
GG: Just... calm down. I’ve gotta think of something.  
WK: i’m so fucking calm janey if i was any calmer my fucking heart would stop  
WK: that’s not a joke i’m serious  
GG: No, I know, I know, I just have to figure something out. Hoo, this is really upsetting!!! :(

She sat back, drumming her fingers on the edge of her laptop. Maybe she could...? She navigated to the remote Tiaratop program, looking it over. There was an option on it she’d never tried before - in all honesty she was scared to. It... was... a program that was meant to ‘gently suggest’ some actions and speech for the wearer, if someone controlling it - like she was - were to put it on someone else. She hated thinking it was ‘mind control’. She really did. But right now it seemed like the only option. Taking a deep breath, she looked over the proper command inputs and tested it out.

SUBJECT: COMMAND: OBEY  
=> SIT UP

Nervously, she watched Roxy for any change at all.

GG: Roxy?  
WK: what are you doing  
GG: I’m trying to help! Do you feel anything?

=> SIT UP

GG: Roxy?  
WK: i’m not sure if i should be feeling something

=> SIT UP  
=> PLEASE SIT UP

ERROR: UNKNOWN COMMAND: PLEASE SIT UP

=> SIT UP  
=> SAY SOMETHING  
=> ROXY PLEASE RESPOND  
=> ROXY CMON PLEASE!!!!

ERROR: UNKNOWN COMMAND: ROXY PLEASE RESPOND  
ERROR: UNKNOWN COMMAND: ROXY CMON PLEASE!!!!

WK: janey  
WK: janey i’m just tired can i please  
GG: NO! Roxy do not fall asleep. I’m scared. I’m scared you won’t wake up again or - I don’t know!

In tears, she rubbed her face in frustration. She had to think of something. This wouldn’t have happened if Dirk hadn’t been such a... such a... A jerk!

“That’s it,” she whispered suddenly, scrambling to open a bother with the other blonde. If there was any solution to this problem, she had to attack the root of it. Thankfully, he was online.

\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering timaeusTestified [TT] --

TT: Hello Jane.  
TT: To what do I owe this seemingly innocuous pleasure?  
GG: Dirk!! Something really bad is happening and I don’t know what else to do. :(  
TT: You’re going to have to define ‘something really bad’ for me, I’m not following.  
GG: Something bad with Roxy!  
TT: I’m listening.  
GG: Darn it, Dirk! She’s... Oh, I don’t even know how to explain it!  
TT: Try.

She pulled her hair in frustration. No wonder Dirk drove her crazy. She didn’t know if she should dive right into the explanation, or take it slow.

GG: She’s a little broken up about a decision you made a little while ago!  
GG: Not a little, more like a lot!  
TT: Ah, you must mean how I deactivated the auto responder.  
GG: Yeah! That!  
GG: Why????  
GG: Why did you do that when you knew what was going on!!???!?!?  
GG: Dirk explain yourself!!  
GG: Shucks dang I’m gonna come over there and beat you like a rented mule if you don’t speak up!  
TT: I had no idea what was going on.  
TT: I still don’t.  
TT: The last thing Roxy said to me was a bunch of garbage about how he was more of a man than I am, or something.  
GG: You broke her heart, Dirk!  
TT: That was obviously not my intention.  
TT: I was expecting the AR to be... more, I guess. He didn’t live up to my standards.  
TT: And that was disappointing.  
TT: But I decided that his failure was a perfect excuse to start being more for my friends.  
GG: Failure?  
TT: It wasn’t a malicious move, Jane. He didn’t live up to my expectations and I figured it was time to give him a rest.  
GG: But he was  
GG: He had a  
TT: Use your words.  
GG: Him and Roxy were... involved I guess.  
GG: You don’t know the extent of it, I’m sure!  
TT: I was aware of their little tryst, but you are correct in assuming I don’t know the whole story.  
TT: Plenty of logfiles blocked from me.  
TT: He wouldn’t tell me anything either.  
TT: I noticed more recently they didn’t have any logfiles between them.  
GG: That’s because he was talking to her!  
TT: Talking to her.  
GG: Yeah! He used sound clips of your voice and his own... programming I guess to have conversations with her! For realsies!  
TT: Wait.  
TT: He recorded clips of my voice, and using his own programming figured out how to have an actual conversation with her?  
TT: I’m impressed.  
GG: There’s more, Dirk.  
GG: She worked for days on a program to utilize screenshots of you so she could chat with him like... camming.  
TT: And this happened all in a few days?  
TT: Took my voice to chat with her almost one-on-one.  
TT: He sent her screenshots of me to basically put together like an interactive flipbook to have webcam chats with her.  
GG: She worked really hard, Dirk.  
GG: I really don’t think you understand the level of dedication she put into making him... I don’t know. Feel like an actual person.  
GG: Because he may have been just some program to you, but to her he was everything!  
GG: He was just as real as you are!  
GG: Probably even moreso, with how you’ve become accustomed to treating her!

Dirk didn’t reply for a long time. Minutes passed, Jane’s heartbeat pounding in her ears. She glanced up at Roxy, who was staring blankly at the far wall.

GG: Dirk.  
GG: I really need your help.  
GG: Roxy does too!  
GG: Please, you have to do something!  
TT: I’m not sure what you expect me to do.  
GG: Isn’t there anything you can do?  
GG: Could you bring him back?  
TT: I really wasn’t planning on it.

Jane’s loud scream surprised even herself, and she nearly threw her laptop against the wall.

GG: You’re really getting on my nerves, Dirk!  
GG: I don’t care if you weren’t really planning on it!  
GG: I don’t think you fucking understand the gravity of what’s going on right now!  
TT: Jane.  
GG: No, you shut up mister! You listen to me right now!  
GG: Roxy hasn’t moved from her bed in days. I literally had to carry her to the bathroom so she could dry heave. Why was she dry heaving? Because she hasn’t eaten anything in a week. Because she just can't bring herself to do it!  
GG: She can barely remember who she is or where she is!!! She’s absolutely fucking DEVASTATED by what’s happened and I’m afraid if this goes on for any longer she’s going to die!  
GG: She’s giving up on life Dirk and it’s all your fault!! Could you live with that??  
GG: So fucking suck it up! If you want to be there for your friends you can start out by not being such an egotistical prick and DOING SOMETHING TO HELP ONE THAT IS DYING!!!  
TT: Accept the file transfer, Jane.  
\-- timaeusTestified [TT] has sent the file ARReboot.exe --  
GG: Oh!  
\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] has accepted the file transfer. --  
TT: He should be okay.  
TT: Just run the file.  
GG: I hope this works!! It’d better, or you’re getting a piece of my mind!  
TT: Me too.  
TT: Good luck, Jane.

\--timaeusTestified [TT] ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG] --

Jane took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She didn’t open the program, but instead installed it onto the Tiaratop.

GG: Roxy?  
WK: i’m here  
GG: I need you to run the file I just put onto the Tiaratop’s desktop, okay?  
GG: Just visualize the window closing, and imagine double-clicking it. I’m assuming that’s all that needs to be done.  
WK: i’ll try

\-- wizardKitty [WK] has ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG] --

All she could do now was wait.


	10. Chapter 10

It was bizarre seeing the computer desktop behind her eyelids, but she did what she was told, envisioning the program that had been put in front of her running. Instantly, the ‘screen’ went black. Roxy didn’t even have time to panic before she felt incredibly dizzy, nearly tumbling off her bed before blacking out entirely.

When she came to, she didn’t recognize where she was. It was a big black spanse of space; seemingly endless - if it weren’t for the pink neon-ish lights that expanded everywhere. It reminded her of Tron. Even moreso when she glanced down and saw she was wearing what looked like a cheesy light suit. Also pink.

“Where the actual fuck am I?” Her own voice startled her - it sounded calm, which it definitely hadn’t been in weeks. She still felt weak and tired, but an unseen force made her stand, and start walking.

Every so often the neon lights would flicker, making her jump a little. She had no idea where she was or what was going on, and every step she took made her more and more concerned. It seemed like hours, but the huge expanse finally narrowed enough to a hallway. Either side of her was flanked with various doors, sporting tags of jumbled letters and numbers that made zero sense to her. She cautiously opened one, and peeked inside.

“...nooooooo Janey, I already told you I can’t tell him.”  
“But why the frick not, Rolal??”  
“Because it won’t make a god-ding-danged difference and you know it. Why don’t you talk to adventure boy, huh? Practice what you preach.”  
“Roxy!”

She shut the door, frowning a little. That’d been a conversation she’d had with Jane - gosh - months ago. How did it end up here? Where _was_ she? Nervously she went to another door across the hall, opening it and peering in as well. This one was different - pink text was flying around the ‘room’, mingled with bits of red and orange as well.

TG: iim sof ucking done w/ the btoh of u  
TT: You’re really not. - This text was red.  
TT: Okay, Rox. Go to your room and think about what you’ve done. When you’re finished with your tantrum, come back and we can talk. - This was orange.  
TG: totes srs im fuckign gone

She remembered this conversation, too. Barely, but it was there. She’d tried to talk to Dirk about her feelings, her _actual_ feelings, but he kept being dodgy - and AR had been a bit of an antagonist as well. Thinking about it made her eyes well up again, and she slammed the door, taking off down the hallway at a sprint. Behind her the sounds of doors flinging open chased her, bits and pieces of conversations and voices flooding her senses with themselves. She didn’t want to remember these things. Things she’d tried so hard to forget.

“Stop!” she screamed, reaching the end of the hallway that led to another vast black room. She was breathless after a minute or so, dropping to her knees and covering her ears. “Just stop! Go away! I don’t care! I hate this and I hate Dirk and I hate everything! I just want it to fucking STOP!”

She curled up as tightly as she could, trying to block out everything as she sobbed into her knees. Words and colours swirled around her, the blonde forcing herself through her tears to repeat her mantra with a few added things - ‘nothing matters, I want this to stop’ - before long she was screaming it, her voice hoarse and cracking. The words and sounds finally relented, and Roxy was left in a heap on the ground, shaking and sobbing to herself.

It felt like another hour had passed and she’d finally calmed down, somewhat accustomed to the darkness and the absolute silence. Sitting up again she swallowed, wiping her eyes and glancing around once more. More used to the dark now she was able to make out the shape of the hallway some dozen yards off, and above her head the lights faded into what looked like an impossibly large dome shape. Almost allowing herself to get lost in the vastness of it all, she heard faint footsteps coming from the direction opposite of the hallway.

Still in a heap on the floor, her hands balled into fists. A shape was forming far off; it was faintly glowing red. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She still didn’t know where she was, or what was going on - and now she had a stranger to deal with. Her heart was racing; coupled with her anxiety it made her feel incredibly nauseas. Swallowing a nervous lump in her throat, she finally spoke in a wavering voice.

“Wh-who’s there?” Nothing. The figure kept approaching. “I’ll beat the shit out of you if you c-come any closer.” Still nothing. A spike of terror wedged itself into her spine and she froze, only able to shut her eyes. Well, fine. She’d already wanted to die anyway, so she could be killed in this weird Tron-land and get it over with already. The footsteps drew closer and her body ached from trembling. Once they stopped, she bit her lip in anticipation. She was ready to die. What she wasn’t ready for was the figure that now most certainly towered above her to speak.

“Hey, dollface.”


	11. Chapter 11

“What the-” Hands tore away from her face, staring up at the owner of the voice she’d grown so accustomed to. Standing above her, looking over her like some kind-of fucked-up angel, was... “...AR?” He smiled. He fucking _smiled_.  
“In the flesh.”  
“But-” He was wearing a suit similar to hers, but the accents were faintly glowing red instead of pink. In the middle of his chest was some weird heart symbol, but half of it was missing - only a thick outline showed on the right-hand side. In the dim light his hair looked almost grey. Silver, maybe. He even had Dirk’s glasses, but there was a faint red glow behind them. “How... you’re...”  
“Standing right in front of you. Great observational skills, Rox. You used your eyes as a tool to of observation to figure something out.”  
“Yeah now watch me roll ‘em at you. Dick.” There was a long pause between them, AR crouching down to her level. She was still incredulous, still unwilling to believe that this even was happening. Did... did she die?  
“C’mon Roxy, let’s get out of here. You’re killing yourself.” He glanced around at the space they were in. “I can feel it. It’s not good.” Confused look crossed the blonde’s face.  
“How can you...?” It wasn’t exactly a secret, Roxy knew she was a little worse for wear for a while now.  
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Roxy? We’re inside your brain.” Shaking hands reached to touch her hair, then her face. Her brain? “Yes, it’s right there. We’re inside that.”  
“...like right now?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “...if I shake my head will we rattle around?” That... was a stupid question. She’d spent the last few hours running around like an idiot, and hadn’t felt a thing. “That was dumb. Nevermind.”  
“Let’s just go, Rox. You’re better than this.” Roxy shook her head, unable to look at him once he pressed the issue of them gtfo-ing.  
“I... can’t.”  
“Why the fuck not?” She was surprised by the devastation in his voice, and she looked up at him again to reply.  
“Because.”  
“That’s not an answer, babe. Why can’t we leave?”  
“Because... once we leave here...” Her voice cracked against her will, Roxy shaking her head as she felt tears pool in her eyes. She swallowed the painful lump in her throat ((or tried to, anyway)) and continued. “Once we leave here, you g-go back to being some computer program - if that, if Dirk even lets you live after this - speaking of, that, how are you even here? I _know_ he didn’t have a change of heart.” He paused for a moment in reply, and made a ‘hmm’ noise.  
“Unreal Heiress Thoughtwave Tiaratop. Let me see if I can...” More thoughtful-face business. “Here we go. It seems that I was uploaded onto Jane’s Tiaratop, and executed from a reboot file Dirk had sent her.” He frowned a little. “This is definitely just backup. I don’t seem to have any access to his files or really anything from him at all aside the bare code. But hey - you’re avoiding my question.”  
“You go back to being a computer program,” she continued in a quiet, grave tone, still trying to take in everything about Dirk sending Jane the file. “...and I go back to being some woebegone girl sobbing about her intangible boyfriend.” AR frowned again almost instantly, and it was ill-befitting on his handsome face.  
“Sobbing? Roxy...”  
“I don’t think you understand... exactly what happened.” She chewed on her bottom lip and looked away, suddenly very ashamed of the however-long tantrum she’d thrown. It’d been nearly a month of solid sobbing, moping, and feeling sorry for herself in general. AR reached out to her, and she gave him a bizarre look.  
“Take my hand, Rox.”  
“What..?”  
“Just do it.” Hesitantly, she reached out - and her mouth fell open in surprise as her hand slipped into his. It was warm and welcoming.  
“...I can touch you.”  
“I’m real, Roxy.” Her tears fell in incredulity, looking up at him as if he were the only human being she had ever seen - or touched - in her entire life. He pulled her into a stand, and a second hadn’t passed before she was hugging him tightly, face buried in his chest. Before she knew what was happening, Roxy Lalonde was openly sobbing into him, form shaking as his arms came around her, hands soothingly spreading across her back. It took all she had in her not to completely lose herself, and crumple back into a ball on the floor.  
“I-I-” she stammered, unable to give her thoughts voice. AR stroked her hair gently, like a lover might, murmuring soft things to her to try and calm her down.  
“We can stay for a little while. If you want.” Dumb nod was given, and after a few more minutes of her trying to collect herself, he slowly began leading her in the direction opposite that she had come.

When she had finally pried herself out of his chest they held hands, a slow gait leading them down random hallways; past more memory doors, into more atrium-type places, and even a few spiral staircases. It was a little scary, and a little beautiful. Doors were scattered intermittently; a few of them heavily damaged. Some hung off their hinges, showing empty rooms beyond them. There were a couple that looked as if something had tried to claw its way into it. Knowing what she did now, about where they were, it was a little eerie. She could tell where her brain had started to deteriorate, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand those had been memories of her and Dirk, her and AR. A long silence had stagnated between them, and Roxy was the first to clear it.

“Did it hurt?” It only took half a second for her to realize what she was asking, and she blushed in shame, glancing away.  
“If you’re going to complete that thought with ‘when you fell from Heaven’ I’m going to drop-kick you off that last staircase.”  
“A big pile of ‘fuck off’ to that,” she replied heatedly, but felt better about the question. Her voice still lowered to correct him: “You know what I meant.” To her surprise, he laughed weakly, shaking his head.  
“No. Not physically, anyway.” Roxy cringed, and he squeezed her hand. “I was more scared than anything else.”  
“Did he even talk to you first?” Anger was flaring in her again; the same searing pain and empathy she’d felt weeks ago. “Or did he pull a classic Dirk and just... fuckin’...” Fucking hell, she was crying again. Even with him right here next to her, _holding her hand_ , it didn’t change the fact that it’d happened, and it’d more than likely be the same depressing situation when they left her mind. He stopped walking and tugged her hand, and she looked up at him with those wet, pink eyes. A hand lifted to cup her cheek, thumb brushing away the closest ones. A silent but gentle ‘no more of that’. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and sighed, and they kept walking. She couldn’t describe how it felt walking with him, her previously as-good-as-made-up boyfriend through the hallways of what amounted to her brain. Honestly, it was indescribable. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest every time he spoke, or she could hear him _breathing_ , or he squeezed her hand. It was mesmerizing.  
“He did speak with me briefly before doing it. Although maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t.” Roxy felt her heart drop, but she couldn’t reply. “I got mad. ...I panicked.”  
“Panicked?” Her own voice sounded worried. Concerned. He sighed.  
“I probably said some things to him that were unwarranted.”  
“Fuck that. Fuck that right off.” She squeezed his hand tightly, fighting off tears again. “It was totally warranted.” He didn’t say anything for a while, and they walked in silence. At first she was afraid she offended him, but -  
“I was scared.” An icy pang dug itself into her chest. She actually cringed. He was afraid. AR had been afraid. Of being killed. Which he had been. “I didn’t... want to not exist. I was scared, so I panicked. I said nasty things to Dirk. Really nasty things.” Was she crazy, or did his voice crack a little?  
“AR...?”  
“But I was thinking of you, Roxy -” He turned to her, hands coming to cup her cheeks again. Worried eyes studied his face. Before she could stop herself she was lifting his glasses off his face. His eyes had red irises. They were a little wide; a little... crazed. No, that wasn’t the right word. Stressed. She slid the shades to rest on top of her head, her fingers touching his cheeks. God, he was _real_. “I was thinking of you the entire time.” His thumbs stroked under her eyes, and she felt her nervous breathing reflecting off his face back at her. Off his tangible face. His beautiful, wonderful, very real face.  
“I m-missed you so much,” she whispered, feeling her tears fall. They were hot on her face and she felt incredibly stupid for crying in front of AR. In front of her _boyfriend_. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. It made her take in a sharp breath, trying so so hard not to just outright sob again. “I fucking lost it, AR.” She sniffled, and before she could he wiped her tears away again. “I lost my shit. I couldn’t believe what happened. I drank myself stupid. I... I tried to forget about you and Dirk and I ended up... nearly killing myself.”  
“I noticed that part,” he began quietly, “it’s a mess in here.”  
“It’s a mess out there, too.” She held her breath, waiting for him to lecture her, chastise her, yell at her - anything. She deserved it. What she got was none of that - he instead kissed her, slow and sweet. It made her eyes water again, but she was kissing him back, standing on her tiptoes and holding his biceps so hard she wasn’t sure if she was shaking, or he was.


End file.
